But Marcolina, as if gradually collecting herself, and manifestly in
order to give him the opportunity which was indispensable, turned her
face to the wall. He seized the moment to get out of bed, to raise the
cloak from the floor, and to wrap himself in it. He was quick, too, to
make sure of his sword. Now, when he conceived himself to have at least
escaped the worst contumely of all, that of ludicrousness, he began to
wonder whether it would not be possible to throw another light upon this
affair in which he cut so pitiful a figure. He was an adept in the use
of language. Could he not somehow or other, by a few well-chosen words,
give matters a favorable turn?
From the nature of the circumstances, it was evidently impossible for
Marcolina to doubt that Lorenzi had sold her to Casanova. Yet however
intensely she might hate her wretched lover at that moment, Casanova
felt that he himself, the cowardly thief, must seem a thousand times
more hateful.
Perhaps another course offered better promise of satisfaction. He might
degrade Marcolina by mockery and lascivious phrases, full of innuendo.
But this spiteful idea could not be sustained in face of the aspect she
had now assumed.
Pages:
145
146
147
148
149
150
151
152
153
154
155
156
157
158
159
160
161
162
163
164
165
166
167
168
169